Midnight in The Garden
by snape's-american-goddess
Summary: There are a lot of mistakes in this story, like Rosethorn's birthday for one, but it's really good, I think. A short, charming fic about Rosethorn and Crane's sweet romance. Please read!


Midnight in The Garden  
  
"Help me with this weeding, boy!" Rosethorn called from the garden.  
  
"Weeding, weeding, weeding. Always weeding." Briar muttered. Nevertheless he went out to help. It had been a few weeks after she got over her blue pox and she was recovering nicely. Her speech had improved and she was as sharp as ever.  
  
"Make haste! Come on! I can feel the weeds progressing to our tomatoes already." She said. She was down on her knees, earth all down the front of her green habit. Briar sat down beside her and began to weed.  
  
It was tiresome work; soon his arms began to ache. The summer sun was beating down on them with all the heat it could muster.  
  
"Are we almost done?" Briar asked after an hour or two. Rosethorn was just about to answer when a voice behind her spoke.  
  
"Rosethorn?" It asked. She turned around. It was Dedicate Crane.  
  
"Crane," she stood up, wiping her filthy hands on her habit. His nose wrinkled. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I merely came to see how your recovery was progressing." He said stiffly, though noble as ever.  
  
"I'm doing fine, thanks very much." Rosethorn replied. She gave Briar permission to leave and turned back to Crane. "What suddenly makes you care so greatly?" He bristled.  
  
"Well, make no mistake Rosethorn; you are the best partner I have ever worked with. I...I do care about you." He said with some difficulty. There was a look in his eyes that Rosethorn had never seen before. She didn't quite know what to say to that.  
  
"Well...um...thank you. I – I feel the same way, of course. Would you, um...like to stay for dinner?" She asked him.  
  
"No," he said curtly. "I really have to be getting back to my greenhouse. Good evening."  
  
"Good evening." Rosethorn wiped her hands one last time on her habit and went back to Discipline. The smell of warm food greeted her as she sunk into a chair.  
  
"What was that all about?" Asked Lark from across the room.  
  
"Nothing important." Rosethorn replied. She meant for it to come out bitterly, but a note of dismay came out as well. Lark went and sat beside her. By the laughter upstairs Rosethorn was sure the children were talking or playing a game.  
  
"What's the matter, Rosie?" Lark asked. She looked at her friend sincerely. Rosethorn sighed.  
  
"He – Crane, I mean – told me he cared about me." Rosethorn told her quietly. Lark almost laughed.  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"Yes." Said Rosethorn sheepishly. This time Lark did laugh. "What? What's so funny?"  
  
"Well, of course he does, Rosie! You can't get your knickers in a bunch over that!"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Rosethorn demanded. Lark's laughter died out.  
  
"Well...I didn't tell you before because I didn't think I needed to. You should have seen him when you were sick. He worked day and night to find that cure. Crane didn't get one wink of sleep until you were better –"  
  
"That street slang sounds terrible and I'm sure he was just doing that for everyone else. I wasn't the only one that was sick, you know."  
  
"Yes, but you instigated him. He even cured you himself. Why would he make such haste if he hadn't truly cared?"  
  
"Lark," Rosethorn began slowly. "Are you saying that he lov –"  
  
"What's for dinner?" Briar asked as he descended the stairs. Rosethorn sighed as he looked up. "What? What did I interrupt?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing." Said Lark, giving him a reassuring smile. Briar couldn't help it; he smiled back.  
  
"Did you see Rosethorn and Crane in the garden this morning?" Briar asked Sandry, Daja, and Tris after dinner. They were all sitting in his room, looking at the stars. It was a clear, crisp summer night.  
  
"No. Why? What happened?" Tris asked, tearing herself away from the book Niko had lent her.  
  
"Nothing...it just seemed a bit funny." He said, rubbing his chin.  
  
"What do you mean?" Asked Daja, now curious.  
  
"Yes, I'd like to know." Joined Sandry. Briar sighed.  
  
"Well...they looked at each other funny, and then Rosethorn told me to leave. It seemed like they were up to something. Crane was really nervous and wringing his hands and stuff. It was just really curious." He finished. A silence settled in until Sandry broke it.  
  
"That's all?"  
  
"Um – yeah." He said. Tris threw her hands up.  
  
"You got us all worked up for absolutely nothing!"  
  
"Honestly, Briar!" Daja scolded. They got up and left, muttering about boys.  
  
But as hard as Briar tried, as much as he wanted to believe them, he was convinced that something was going on between Crane and Rosethorn, and he wanted to know what it was. He wasn't about to lose her again.  
  
Two weeks passed since the incident in the garden, and neither Crane nor Rosethorn mentioned it again, though it was slightly awkward between them. Briar was still curious, but since things seemed to be back to normal, his curiosity eventually ebbed away...that is, until Midsummer's Eve.  
  
The morning passed virtually normally. Breakfast was served, chores were completed, and life went smoothly. Rosethorn's birthday was quiet but nonetheless acknowledged. Briar bought her some unusual plants that she actually already had but didn't have the heart to tell him. Tris bought her a book called 'Flowers of Emelan.' Daja fashioned her a gold mortar and pestle. Lark stitched her an embroidery that seemed to hold an entire forest. She was very happy with all of her gifts and expected nothing more.  
  
However, the day wasn't over yet.  
  
In the late afternoon she was out working in the garden, tending to her tomatoes. Briar was inside with the girls relaxing. She had allowed him to take the day off, although he insisted that it be vice versa. She loved the magic tingling in her fingertips when he touched the earth.  
  
"Rosethorn?" Called a voice the second time that month.  
  
"Hello, Crane." She said, standing up. This time her habit wasn't so earth- ridden and there was no dirt under her fingernails. She had just been pruning the tomato vine and half of her wished she could have continued doing so. The other half of her shivered with excitement. "Something for you?"  
  
"Well...I feel the need to discuss what I said about three weeks ago." He said. He was steady, but his eyes were unsure. Rosethorn stiffened.  
  
"All right. Say what you've come to say." He moved a little closer to her. She'd never seen him like this, and it alarmed her that he was so close. But instead of taking a step back, she stood her ground, almost enjoying (?) his nearness. Get a hold of yourself, she told herself firmly. You're going insane!  
  
"I...well...-"He threw up his hands in frustration. "Oh, this is madness! These feelings of mine are impossible to comprehend!"  
  
"Then maybe you should speak in a gesture," Rosethorn suggested quietly, drawing ever closer. I can't believe I'm doing this, she screamed in her head. What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I –  
  
"That, my dear," She breathed. "Is a good idea." He leaned down and gently brushed her lips with his. At first the kiss was shy and unsure, but eventually it grew to forge the passion inside their hearts. She never wanted it to end, and neither did he. But it had to stop. She broke away from him.  
  
"No, this is wrong!" She cried. But upon seeing the look on his face, she added, "I'm sorry, Crane. Just give me time." She gave him one last meaningful look and ran into Discipline and up to her workroom. Lark saw her dash up the stairs and ran after her.  
  
When Rosethorn reached her room she flopped down on the bed. Lark poked her head in to observe her dismayed friend.  
  
"Something wrong, Rosethorn?"  
  
Rosethorn sighed exasperatedly. "Why is life so damn complicated?" Her voice was muffled, as she was talking to a pillow, so she lifted her head to talk to Lark instead. Lark smiled and sat down beside her.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I can't tell you."  
  
"And why ever not?"  
  
"Because I think I'm breaking the code of dedication."  
  
A cold draft swept into the room. Rosethorn shivered. "Rosie, that gives you all the more reason to tell me."  
  
Rosethorn groaned. "Crane...he kissed me."  
  
"Did he?" Lark grinned. "And did you like it?"  
  
Rosethorn slammed her fist down on the bed as hard as she could. "Lark, that's not the point! Am I breaking the code or not?"  
  
"Well, as long as you keep to your temple duties and don't get distracted, I don't think so. I think it's just dedicate marriages that are outlawed." She said, pondering the dilemma.  
  
"I see." Replied Rosethorn. "Well, that's just bloody good. You're already thinking about marriage, I see."  
  
Lark laughed. "Only you, Rosie."  
  
"Did you guys hear something?" Briar asked as someone ran up the stairs. Daja and Sandry nodded; Tris was still buried in her book.  
  
Coppercurls, come on, called Briar in mind-talk.  
  
All right, all right! Just let me finish this paragraph, was Tris's icy response. She finished it and snapped her book shut. She called upon her powers and soon they could hear Rosethorn loud and clear. She seemed to be talking to Lark about something.  
  
"...more reason to tell me." Lark was saying.  
  
"Crane...he kissed me." Said Rosethorn, in almost a dreamy voice.  
  
"Did he? And did you like it?" Lark replied cheerily. Tris's wind died out in surprise. An eerie silence filled the room.  
  
"I told you!" Briar said.  
  
"Shut it!" Said Sandry irritably. Briar shrunk away.  
  
"Well, really all we can do is be happy for them, you know." Said Tris thoughtfully.  
  
"I suppose." Said Daja. "But really, this is really very interesting. I mean, can honestly picture it...Crane and Rosethorn...together? A bit unrealistic to me, guys."  
  
"My thoughts exactly. And why would he kiss her? I thought they hated each other!" Sandry said. There was a murmur of agreement, then silence.  
  
"Well, is anyone else hungry?" Asked Briar timidly.  
  
The four went down for dinner.  
  
Rosethorn glanced suspiciously at the four mages. The girls had been giggling and whispering since dinner began. Their soup was getting cold and Rosethorn was beginning to get very annoyed.  
  
"Is there something wrong, girls?" She asked them sharply. "You've been acting funny all through dinner." All three looked up, alarmed.  
  
"Oh, no, Rosethorn. We're fine." Sandry assured her. Yet, they went back to the whispering. Briar was sulky and quiet, not cordial as he usually was. Something was wrong with the children, but she couldn't figure out what.  
  
She looked at Lark, who had no better idea then she did. She sighed, finished her soup, and yawned. It was very late and she decided to go to bed.  
  
"Goodnight, every one. See you in the morning." She got up and made for her workroom.  
  
"Goodnight, Rosethorn." They said.  
  
When she got to her workroom she went right to bed, and, although she had been tired just minutes ago, she found that she was now wide awake...thinking about Crane.  
  
"Why am I so entranced that now I am losing sleep over him? A couple days ago I hated him..." she wondered aloud. She tried to brush his face away, but it kept popping back into her mind, depriving her of peace.  
  
But, no matter how hard Rosethorn tried, she could not lie; that kiss had been the best she had ever experienced. And though she tried to tell herself that it was a fluke, that it had been a mistake, that it had had no meaning whatsoever; she couldn't lie.  
  
She needed to be with him.  
  
After hours of tossing and turning, mentally debating the kiss in her mind, fighting the reality of that pleasure, she decided to do her brain some justice. She got out of bed, straightened her hair, crept out of the now sleeping house, and went outside into her garden. She did not intend to work, but just admire all she had done, when she saw a dark figure already doing so.  
  
"Crane?" She asked. His silhouette jumped and turned to her. He got close enough so that she could just make out his face under the moonlight.  
  
"Funny, Rosethorn. We both find ourselves here once more when I thought you never wanted to see me again."  
  
"I just came for my plants –"  
  
"Don't try to cover up. You had a feeling I'd be waiting, didn't you?" These words did not sound harsh as they usually would coming from his mouth. She gulped.  
  
"I had a feeling, nothing more."  
  
"Ahh, but it was correct, was it not?"  
  
She nodded. Somehow he always had a way of making her feel stupid, and she suspected that she did the same for him. Funny, it was; two smart people making each other feel like idiots.  
  
She turned to him. They were now extremely close. He bent down so close to her face that it took her aback, despite what had happened previously that day.  
  
"Happy birthday, Rosethorn."  
  
He leaned lower and kissed her passionately as he had that day, but they held the kiss longer this time. When they finally broke away her breath was ragged, as his was. The wind swept around them and her hair came out, blowing around his face. He merely smiled and kissed her again.  
  
So, at midnight in the garden, Rosethorn and Crane fell in love.  
  
THE END 


End file.
